


I'm Just A Shadow of Your Thoughts In Me

by lynnearlington



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-11
Updated: 2010-11-11
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:38:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynnearlington/pseuds/lynnearlington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Brittany is five she wants to be a princess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Just A Shadow of Your Thoughts In Me

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 2x06.

When Brittany is five she wants to be a princess. 

Her mom buys her these pink, fluffy dresses and tiaras. Brittany builds a castle out of pillows and bedsheets and when Santana comes over Brittany makes her play the prince and they spend hours stuck inside Brittany’s fantasy world. Santana pretends to ride a horse and she uses one of Brittany’s mom’s rolling pins as a sword and Brittany giggles when Santana fights a fake dragon so they can live happily ever after. 

Halfway through the game Brittany wants to switch and play the prince because Santana is making it look so cool, but her friend stops her with a stern face and hands on her hips. 

“You can’t,” Santana insists. 

“Why?” Brittany asks, really wanting to be the prince. 

“Because you’re the princess,” Santana states. “And I’m the prince and that’s just how it’s going to be.” 

Brittany isn’t sure why that’s the way it has to be considering that it’s Brittany’s house, and her room and her game, but Santana’s already climbing over Brittany’s bed and screaming about a three-headed dog and Brittany forgets all about being the prince. 

\--

When Brittany is eight she wants to be an astronaut. 

Her mom buys her these glow in the dark stars that she puts up on her ceiling. Later, her dad brings home an empty box that used to hold someone’s refrigerator and Santana helps her draw on windows and buttons and they ride their box spaceship to the moon. Santana finds this green towel in the guest bathroom and puts over her head pretending to be an alien. Brittany thinks Santana makes the best alien ever. 

Naturally, Santana makes the alien so cool that Brittany wants to be the alien too, but Santana won’t let her. 

“The astronaut is the good guy anyway,” Santana insists. “Don’t you want to be the good guy?” 

Brittany’s not so sure she does because she can’t understand wanting to be something Santana isn’t, but she  _does_  want to keep playing so she keeps her mouth shut and gets back into her spaceship. 

An hour later Santana is explaining how aliens and astronauts can be friends and live together on Mars. Brittany puts a picture up of Mars in her bedroom and dreams that night of living happily ever after there with Santana. 

\--

When Brittany is ten she wants to be a rock star. 

Her mom buys her a leather jacket and a karoke kit. She only knows about four songs to sing, but it doesn’t matter because Santana comes over and they build a fake guitar out of an empty Kleenex box and a broomstick and Santana helps Brittany find some lyrics on the Internet.

Santana rocks out on her fake guitar so intensely that Brittany’s practically in awe of her. She looks so cool and like she’s having so much fun that she wants to play the guitar too, but Santana shakes her head. 

“You have to sing, Britt,” Santana argues. “You’re the singer and I’m the guitar player. There can’t be two guitar players.” 

Brittany opens her mouth to argue, but Santana’s not looking at her, bent over the karaoke machine as she shuffles through the songs. “The lead singer is hotter anyway,” she throws over her shoulder and Brittany’s eyebrows go up in surprise. 

“You’re better at it than me,” Santana continues, walking back towards Brittany as the song starts to play. 

Brittany sings the next song with more vigor than the last. 

They sing the songs so loud that the neighbors end up complaining. Brittany feels kind of bad that they got in trouble, but when Santana smiles at her behind her mother’s back and mouths  _rock on_  Brittany doesn’t really care at all that her mom takes her karaoke machine away. 

\--

When Brittany is eleven she wants to be Santana Lopez. 

Her mom can’t really buy her anything for that, but she does let Santana come over more often and her dad builds them a fort for their sleepovers. Santana’s always talking about all the kinds of things she’s going to do when she grows up and who she’s going to marry and what kind of house she’s going to live in and Brittany can’t do much but sit cross-legged on the floor and listen in awe of her friend. 

She joins Cheerios because Santana does it and she buys these yellow sheets to replace her space ones because Santana does it and when they’re fourteen she kisses Keven Ricket behind the bleachers because Santana did it four days earlier. She sleeps with Puck a few months later because Santana did it a week earlier. 

Santana kind of gets this weird look in her eye when Brittany tells her these things, but it fades quickly enough for Brittany not to worry about it. Most of the time Santana manages to give her this soft, approving smile that makes Brittany feel about twenty stories high. 

When they’re fifteen Santana kisses her and Brittany just goes along with it because Santana’s never ever had a bad idea and frankly, the kiss feels really nice. When Santana tells her in a fervent whisper that Brittany can’t tell anyone she just nods and smiles because Santana knows what’s best and Brittany thinks she’d agree to anything as long as Santana kept doing that thing with her fingers. 

As far as idols go, Santana remains firmly at the top of Brittany’s list and, aside from a brief stint at thirteen when she wants to be a clown, at sixteen, Brittany still wants to be Santana Lopez. 

Santana’s just so awesome that Brittany has a hard time understanding why everyone doesn’t want to be just like her best friend. Santana’s hot, smart, popular, funny, cool and just about the best kisser Brittany’s ever known. 

Plus, Santana helps her with all kinds of stuff like remembering all her gear for Cheerios practice, remembering what answers to put on her Spanish test and how to get boys to fall at her feet. Santana’s especially good at getting guys to fall at her feet. Late at night, under the covers of Brittany’s bright yellow sheets, Santana shares some of her secrets with Brittany. 

“Girls have all the power,” Santana whispers, twisting a strand of blonde hair in between her fingers. Brittany likes the soft way it pulls against her scalp and how she can smell Santana’s perfume on her pillow. 

“We do?” 

Santana nods. “Guys will do anything for play. It’s like the best weapon ever.” 

“Sex is a weapon?” Brittany shifts a little closer, her head now sharing the pillow with Santana. 

“Yeah, you just gotta know how to use it and then you can get anything you want,” Santana answers, her fingers threading through Brittany’s hair and scratching nails against Brittany’s scalp. It feels so good that she almost nods off, but she forces herself to pay attention. She needs to learn. 

“So why are you having sex with me then?” It’s an honest question. It’s not that she’d be particularly sad to know that Santana’s having sex with her just to get something, it’s just that she’d tell Santana how stupid she’s being. If Santana wants something from her all she has to do is ask. 

But Santana shakes her head and her brows pull together in a frown. Brittany rubs her thumb against the spot to make it go away. Her mother always tells her that frowning gives people wrinkles. 

“I’m having sex with you because you’re my best friend, you’re super hot, and you’re really good with your tongue,” Santana responds earnestly. “It’s different with you and me, okay?” 

Brittany accepts that easily, smiling at her best friend and leaning closer to press their lips together quickly. She might not understand all the rules, but if Santana says they’re different then Brittany believes her. She kind of suspects as much anyway because she sees other best friends at school and she sees other people kissing at school and she’s smart enough to realize that Santana and her are not like everyone else. 

Doesn’t matter though. Brittany likes it that way. 

Santana gives her these soft looks in the middle of class, and she knocks their feet together during a fun song in glee practice and Santana makes her feel wanted and awesome and cool. 

Brittany likes that being best friends with Santana makes life kind of easy. Santana looks out for her when it comes to stuff like being hot and cool and smart and popular and Brittany doesn’t have to worry about saying the right thing or looking the right way. Santana’s just always there and Brittany gets to float around in her orbit, hanging on to her pinky finger and watching Santana work her magic on the world. 

Santana is  _perfect_  and Brittany loves her more than she’s loved anything else in her life. 

\--

The first time Santana’s image loses just a little of its luster, they’re sixteen and Santana is muttering something about lizards and lady babies and Brittany gets this ache in her chest that makes her want to run far away. Before she can act on it though Santana is striding out of the room, her head held high and Brittany’s left alone, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling.

Santana’s never done that before - just leave. She’s never gotten so frustrated at Brittany that they stopped kissing and she’s never told Brittany that she didn’t want to do something with her. Santana is the girl that played cops and robbers with her for six hours two months ago, and she’s the girl that plays tic-tac-toe in class whenever Brittany wants to and she’s the girl that will sit on Brittany’s couch for hours while Brittany explains why she wants a pet platypus. 

Brittany’s not sure what she did, but Santana’s  _leaving._  

Long after Santana is gone and the sheets of Brittany’s bed are cold, the feeling in her chest tightens and burns and she realizes she’s getting kind of mad. For the first time in her entire life she’s really really angry at her best friend. Well she’s angry and she’s  _hurt._  

She didn’t even  _do_  anything, but all of a sudden Santana’s treating her like Brittany’s seen her treat everyone else. It’s just not fair. She feels like such a failure as she scrambles to figure out what she did wrong, what thing Santana needed her to be that she wasn’t. 

She struggles with it so much that she starts to resent Santana. 

It’s funny how fast perspectives can change, even ones that have taken years and years to create. Brittany’s believed Santana was about as perfect as a person could get almost her entire life, but all of a sudden her whole world is flipped on its head and nearly everything Santana does looks different to Brittany. 

Santana has taught her a lot of things about life - about how to deal with people and how to get on top and stay there and maybe it’s kind of dumb to still use those lessons even when Brittany is pretty sure she’s been wrong about Santana this entire time, but it’s how her brain was taught to operate so it’s hard to change those habits now. 

The first thing Santana taught her was how to be cool. One of the things Santana always said was to never give people what they want unless there is something to gain from it. Mystery and unavailability is the key to getting attention. Brittany doesn’t really get why Santana would say this because she’s pretty sure all boys want is sex and Santana has zero problems giving that to just about anyone, but Brittany’s never really thought to question Santana’s life lessons until now. 

So her first plan of action is do exactly the opposite of what Santana wants her to do. It’s about time she stopped wishing she were just like Santana and start acting like she was. Maybe it doesn’t make the most sense when she thinks about it, but whatever.

She was never really the brains of the operation. Acting out against everything Santana’s ever molded her to be seems like the best plan of action so she goes with that. She doesn’t really have anything else to do. 

The second thing Santana taught her was that it doesn’t matter who you sleep with it, but it definitely matters who you date. Some people are good for your reputation and some people are social suicide. 

Artie Abrams? Firmly on the social suicide list. 

Brittany corners him in the hallway between third and fourth period and it’s not hard to get him to agree to dating her. Santana was right about a few things and one of them is that boys are really easy. She makes eye contact with Santana when she passes her in the hallway and the look on Santana’s face tells her all she needs to know. Her plan is totally working. 

It works for about a day and a half. 

She doesn’t expect the plan to backfire the way it does. She doesn’t expect for Artie to be so sad after she sleeps with him and she doesn’t expect him to dump her. Brittany’s pretty sure she’s really good at sex. No guy has ever complained before and Santana always gets that wide eyed shocked looked whenever she comes like she’s never felt anything so awesome. Brittany loves that look. 

But she hates the way she feels right now. Like she really hurt someone’s feelings, like she’s all alone because her best friend doesn’t love her and like she had this really beautiful dream ripped away from her when she wasn’t looking. 

She fails when she listens to Santana and now she’s failing when she’s not listening to her. 

She makes up with Santana a few days later because she hates being alone and she hates being without Santana even more and she’s spent so long as Santana’s best friend that she kind of doesn’t know how to function as anything else. Santana’s grateful to have Brittany back, that much she can tell and she takes a small dose of pride at the realization. At least she doesn’t mean  _nothing_  to her best friend. 

It’s not hard to revert back to old habits, to link her pinky with Santana’s and fall back into step beside her. She sleeps with Josh Cook a few days later because that’s just what she does. There’s something comforting in the routine of it all - in finding the guy, seducing him with a smile and a touch and then going through all the motions until he’s writhing under her, completely entranced. 

Everything goes back to normal except for one thing. Santana. 

It’s not that Santana changes because that’d be absurd. Santana has been the same Santana that Brittany’s known since she was three. Santana will probably never change. 

But for whatever reason, Brittany starts noticing things about Santana that she never noticed before and she’s beginning to feel like she didn’t know Santana at all. 

It starts off with small stuff like how Santana’s leg bounces up and down rapidly during Glee practice or how she wrings her hands together in the cafeteria during lunch. The image she always had of her best friend begins to shift and transform and Brittany doesn’t know why she’s just now noticing it.

Then it’s bigger stuff. Like how Santana doesn’t talk as much when Puck is around or how she treats Brittany differently when Quinn is close to them. She starts to notice all these things that she doesn’t know what to do with. 

So she files it all away and just doesn’t do much of anything. Life goes on just like normal and Brittany’s able to take a deep breath and relax. She needs things to be normal; normal she understands. If she acts like everything is normal maybe everything will  _be_  normal and she can stop seeing Santana differently and start seeing her the way she’s always seen her. 

Then something totally normal happens, but it feels entirely abnormal. 

\--

It starts off fine. 

Puck and Artie come into the choir room and despite the twinge of guilt that takes some of the air out of her lungs at seeing Artie, she knows how this act works. Puck only really ever talks to them when he wants one thing so she knows pretty much right off the bat when he says he wants to talk to Santana exactly what they’re there for. The conversation is routine and Brittany kind of wonders why they’re going through all these motions when they all know exactly what they’re aiming for at the end of it all. 

Regardless, even though she’s heard Santana have this conversation in a hundred different scenarios with dozens of different guys, this is the first time she’s really every paid any attention. 

She’s never really noticed how strange Santana acts around guys. Santana’s acting like she actually cares what Puck thinks about her which is bizarre since she’s heard Santana talk about how much of a loser Puck is about a trillion times. And then Puck’s saying something about finding hotter chicks and Brittany doesn’t know what to do with Santana’s answer. All Brittany has ever heard Santana say their entire lives was how she was the hottest chick in all of Lima, Brittany a close second. Why isn’t Santana telling Puck that he’s not going to find anyone better? That’s the truth, isn’t it? Santana wouldn’t lie about something like that. 

It confuses her, but she doesn’t let any of it stop her from playing the part she’s meant to play and going along with the game. The game is easy. She’s been playing it all her life. She follows Santana’s lead and goes with the flow. It’s just...she’s never really looked ahead to where Santana is leading her before and she’s not sure she likes it. 

They go to BreadstiX and Brittany has even more trouble not paying attention to how weird Santana is acting. Brittany’s not the smartest person in the entire world, sure, but she knows Santana’s pretty smart. She knows that Santana doesn’t like Puck - hasn’t since the eighth grade - and she knows that that furrow in Santana’s brow means she’s fighting against the urge to say something bitchy and hilarious. 

Santana always said that if you had something to say, say it. Apparently there were exceptions to that rule Brittany hadn’t been aware of it. 

She gets a little distracted at dinner because Artie is next to her and Puck keeps telling funny stories and she can’t fight this uncomfortable knot in her stomach with the whole situation. Every time she looks at Artie she feels terrible - she’s right back there in that hallway hearing him break up with her. 

Artie keeps smiling at her and she wonders absently if she should sleep with him again - if that would maybe make it better. He didn’t seem to like it after the first time, but she’s really good at reading signals and she’s pretty sure Artie’s kind of into her right now. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe that was something else she thought she understood, but didn’t really - just like Santana. She guesses if Santana sleeps with Puck tonight that she should probably sleep with Artie, but she feels entirely out of sorts about the whole thing. 

On top of it, Santana keeps glancing at her randomly, sometimes making eye contact, sometimes keeping her eyes focused on random parts of Brittany’s body - her hand beneath the table on Artie’s leg, her free hand twirling her fork. Brittany doesn’t really know what to make of it and that’s more troubling than anything else. 

She  _gets_  Santana. Or at least she always thought she did. 

But then Santana’s saying absolutely  _weird_  things to Puck and Brittany kind of wishes they could just all go home. 

She hears herself continue on through dinner, laughing at the right times and saying the right things to Artie. Santana’s programed her to be able to do all of this as if she were just brushing her teeth at the end of the night - she doesn’t need to put much effort into it. Finally, they all stand up to leave. 

Well, three of them stand up to leave and she and Santana walk to the door. 

“You okay?” Santana whispers, pulling on her Cheerios’ jacket as they walk to the car. 

Brittany shrugs because she doesn’t really know the answer to that question. She can hear Puck behind them, jogging to catch up as they get closer to his car. She just wants to go home, but she knows the night isn’t over. 

“Alright, ladies,” Puck drawls, a leer to his face as he opens his front door. “Let’s get this party started.” 

“Drop us off at Britt’s house,” Santana orders out of nowhere and it feels so out of context to the rest of the night that Brittany can’t help the way her head whips to the side to look at her friend. Puck looks equally surprised. 

“Say what now?” Puck’s got one foot in his car, his arm resting on the hood as he looks at Santana and Brittany on the other side. 

“Brittany got food poisoning,” Santana answers, shifting on her feet nervously. “Drop us off.” 

“Hell no,” Puck says, jerking his head back and looking at Santana like she’s crazy. Brittany’s kind of feeling the same way right now. This is not how the night goes. They should be getting into the car and going to Puck’s house and doing what they usually do. 

Santana just keeps surprising her and Brittany doesn’t know if she likes it at all. 

“She’s going to puke if you don’t drive us there,” Santana replies, biting her bottom lip and crossing her arms over her chest.

Puck looks skeptically over at Brittany and if Brittany weren’t so awesome at catching on to Santana’s lies and going along with them she’d have a similar expression on her face. But agreeing with whatever Santana says is pretty much ingrained in her makeup so she nods solemnly and scuffs her shoe against the pavement. 

“Fine,” Puck sighs. “Boner killer.” 

Santana smile softly at Brittany before opening the back seat and sliding across, leaving the door open for Brittany to follow. 

\--

They get to Brittany’s house and Puck pretty much shoves them out of his car, disgruntled like, before speeding off into the night. Santana watches the taillights of his car disappear with this look Brittany can’t identify, before spinning to face her and linking their arms together. 

“What’s up with you lately?” Santana asks as they stroll up the walk to Brittany’s front door. 

“Nothing,” Brittany answers, opening her door and pulling them inside. She’s not sure she wants to be alone with Santana in a confined space right now, but there’s another part of her that feels the safest locked up in her room with her best friend and all the memories of their life together wrapped around them. 

Santana ends up leading them towards Brittany’s bedroom and pushing her across the threshold. 

Dropping her jacket on her desk chair, Brittany strides to the bed and drops down on it, staring up at the ceiling. She resists the urge to rip the stars off the ceiling because she can’t figure out why she’d want to do that. 

She can feel Santana moving about the room without having to look at her. They’ve been in this space together so many times that Brittany feels like Santana’s presence is etched into the walls and into her bed sheets and in the box of old toys shoved into the back of her closet. 

Santana’s just sort of shuffling around the bedroom and Brittany hates the silence that settles around them. She’s used to silences, sure, because people don’t really talk to her in general and when she’s alone in a room with someone they’re usually doing something that doesn’t involve a lot of talking. 

This silence, however, is strained and awkward and she hates it. So she breaks it with the only thing she can think of. “Why do you like Puck?” 

Santana halts in her pacing and Brittany can feel the movement stop somewhere near Brittany’s desk, but she refuses to bring her eyes down to look at her best friend. She doesn’t need to anyway, she knows what Santana looks like right now. Knows it better than anything else. 

“I don’t,” Santana says like the answer should be obvious. 

“You do,” Brittany insists, spreading her palms over her the quilt on her bed. It’s a deep navy blue this week - a quilt Santana gave her for Christmas two years ago. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Santana spits, forcing herself into Brittany’s eye line by stepping up to the bed and hovering over her. “I don’t like Puck.” 

“You said he was so cool earlier. We went on a date with him tonight,” Brittany says. “We would have slept with him if you hadn’t lied.” 

Santana lets out a deep exhale but her gaze doesn’t waver. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“I just don’t understand why you keep dating him. You think he’s a loser.” 

Shrugging and putting her arms out at her sides, Santana looks at Brittany, unapologetic. “It’s not like I have a lot of options here, do I?” 

Brittany sits up a little, forcing Santana to take a step back as she slides up the headboard to a sitting position. “Options for what?” 

“For dating,” Santana says, laughing bitterly. 

“Yes you do,” Brittany replies. Which is true. Santana could date anyone she wanted to. 

“Oh yeah?” Santana laughs, starting to pace around the room. “Let’s see. Matt transfered. Finn slept with me once and then was too ashamed to admit it happened. Puck slept with one of my closest friends while we were still dating and then chased after her like a pathetic puppy for an entire semester. The new kid is so enamored by the same damn friend that he wouldn’t even look twice if I freakin’ flashed him in the middle of study hall. Mike much prefers whatever messed up Asian fusion party he’s got going on with Tina and Artie is so busy trying to steal my best friend away from me that he barely notices anything else. Not that I’d even stoop low enough to date Artie, but considering the rest of the dating pool...Excuse me,” Santana snaps icily, glaring at Brittany. “If I’m content taking what I can get.” 

Brittany’s back at that place where she’s confused about her best friend and she hates this feeling so much because Brittany doesn’t understand why Santana  _has_  to be dating someone. She doesn’t remember that as part of Santana’s rules. 

“Why do you have to be dating someone?” 

“Are you kidding?” Santana’s getting really mad now, Brittany can tell. Her brows are pulled together and her voice is getting louder and she’s pacing more rapidly. “High school isn’t about who you are, it’s about who you’re with and if I’m not dating someone hot enough to boost my rep at this school I’m nothing. I’m only as cool as the guy I’ve got on my arm. How do you not understand that after all this time?” 

Santana finishes and Brittany just sort of stares at her, finally feeling like pieces are clicking together despite the image still eluding her. She’s struck dumb at the realization that Santana has no idea whatsoever just how  _awesome_  she is. The thought of it robs Brittany of breath and for the first time in her entire existence she feels really bad for her best friend. 

“I think you’re really cool,” Brittany whispers. 

“Yeah, well duh,” Santana replies, rolling her eyes. “I know I am.” 

Brittany’s heard Santana talk highly of herself in a multitude of situations, but for the first time Brittany realizes how hollow all that confidence and bravado sounds in the context of the past few days. Months really. Santana’s been like this for a long time and Brittany’s never noticed. 

“Do you?” Brittany asks honestly, swinging her legs over so she’s perched on the side of the bed. 

“Brittany,” Santana breathes, dropping her head back on her shoulders to stare at the ceiling. 

“I think you’re way cooler than anyone at school,” Brittany says softly. “Way hotter too.” 

Santana laughs and moves her head back up, walking over to sit next to Brittany on the bed. “Yeah, thanks.” 

Reaching out, Brittany clasps Santana’s left hand with her own. “For serious,” Brittany says, trying to put resolve into her expression and get through to Santana. “You’re my most favorite person in the entire world. You’re so cool without even trying that hard.” 

Santana’s eyes are set on their hands linked together and her mouth is moving around in a thin line. They sit there for a really long time before Santana lets out a soft, “Thanks.” 

“I want to be like you someday,” Brittany confesses, knocking their shoulders together. 

Her friend’s head whips up and locks eyes with Brittany, her expression one of shocked confusion. “Don’t say that,” Santana says. “Don’t say that.” 

“Why not?” Brittany thinks of it as a compliment. And it’s true anyway. She does want to be Santana. She’s wanted to for a long time. “You’re the coolest person I know.” 

“Britt,” Santana says, a quiet resignation to the name. “I’m really not that cool.” 

Brittany shrugs. “I think you are.” 

“Yeah,” Santana chuckles, eyes roaming the walls of Brittany's bedroom. 

It’s not getting through to Santana, Brittany can tell. She doesn’t get why her best friend doesn’t believe her or why she can’t just accept the obvious. “I wouldn’t lie to you,” she insists, pulling Santana’s hand into her lap. “Why don’t you believe me?” 

“It’s not that,” Santana mutters and Brittany’s shocked to hear how broken Santana’s voice sounds - all rough and full of soon-to-be-shed tears. “I hate that no one wants me,” Santana confesses, the words almost too quiet for Brittany to hear. 

They cut right through her and Brittany hates the way Santana sounds, so unlike the Santana in her mind that exudes calm indifference and confidence every day. 

“Everyone wants you,” Brittany says because it’s true. Santana’s reputation at school is legend. Brittany doesn’t know a single person that doesn’t want to witness that legend first hand. “They all do.” 

“To fuck,” Santana adds harshly, spitting the words out like she hates their very existence. “But not for much else.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“No one wants me for the real stuff, the stupid stuff, you know? The dinners and the movies and the pathetic, sappy cuddling in the afternoon and just...,” Santana trails off and Brittany doesn’t know what to do with all this new information. Santana’s never one to just talk like this, to admit a weakness without covering for it and for a second Brittany doesn’t know how to respond. 

“Whatever,” Santana mumbles quietly. 

There’s a fundamental truth that Brittany needs to get across, that Brittany needs Santana to get because maybe  _this_  Santana on the bed next to her is different from the one she’s idolized all these years, but that doesn’t mean this Santana has to be that way. She didn’t make that Santana up. That Santana in her head that’s everything Brittany’s ever wanted to be in this world and everything she’s ever wanted in her life, that Santana is there just below the insecurity and pain and Brittany needs Santana to find it. 

“I want you,” Brittany says firmly. “ _I_  want you.” 

It’s not clear if Santana hears the words or not because she just sort of stares across the room, not speaking for a long while.

“I think you’re really amazing,” Santana says after a moment. 

Brittany jerks at the unexpected statement. “What?” 

Santana laughs softly and turns to stare at her best friend, a sad smile to her lips and tears brimming in her eyes. “I think you’re like really amazing. When I was a kid all I wanted to be was you.” 

Confusion and surprise are not new emotions for Brittany, but she feels like everything she ever thought was true about her life just got turned upside down for the second time in months. “You what?” 

“I hated that you dated Artie,” Santana admits and Brittany thinks that maybe Santana’s as shocked by the confessions as Brittany is. “You deserve so much better than that loser.” 

“I don’t understand,” Brittany mumbles, shaking her head. This conversation was about Santana. When did it become about something different?

“Don’t say you want to be like me,” Santana continues. “I’m nothing. You’re so much better than me.” 

“That’s not true,” Brittany replies, scooting closer on the bed. 

“It is though,” Santana says. 

“It’s not.” It can’t be. She can’t believe it, but at the same time she’s never felt cooler than she does right now, hearing Santana tell her so. 

“Britt,” Santana sighs. “Just believe me on this one.” 

It’s something Brittany’s really good at - just believing Santana, just accepting whatever it is Santana says is true and going on with her life -, but this time is different and Brittany thinks that maybe it’s time things change. It’s becoming clear that the old way isn’t working any more. 

“If I believe you,” Brittany says, squeezing Santana’s hand. “You have to believe me.” 

“Believe you about what?” 

“You don’t need to date someone to be cool. You’re already the coolest person at school.” 

It’s the first time Brittany’s ever directly defied something Santana’s said and she can feel the impact of the moment sizzle around them. Santana’s eyes roam Brittany’s face and she feels a lightness in her chest and a warmth in her palm where it’s connected to Santana’s. 

“Yeah,” Santana finally concedes. “Okay.” 

Brittany leans over the space between them and presses their lips together softly. “I want you,” she whispers as she pulls away. “I’ll want you forever.” 

Santana’s face scrunches up and Brittany’s afraid her friend is going to cry, but Santana’s smiling a little bit. “Me too,” her friend whispers. “Me too.” 

Pushing forward, Santana lays Brittany across the bed and presses down on top of her, tangling their legs together and keeping their lips locked. Brittany tastes Santana’s tears on her lips and she feels the way Santana’s shaking a little above her so she smoothes her hands down Santana’s back. 

Her friend buries her face in Brittany’s shoulder and lets out a long, shaky exhale. 

“I love you,” Santana mumbles into the skin under Brittany’s jaw. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” 

This time Brittany feels like she might cry, but she takes a deep breath and tries to keep steady, feeling warm and genuinely loved for the first time in a long time. 

“I love you too,” she whispers, pressing her face into Santana’s hair and closing her eyes. 

They lay there for long moments, pressed together as they let time tick away before Santana breaks the silence. 

“Don’t date Artie again.” 

Brittany laughs and squeezes her arms tightly around her best friend’s body. “Okay,” she says. “I won’t.” 

\--

At sixteen Brittany doesn’t want to be anyone other than Brittany S. Pierce. 

Because Brittany S. Pierce has Santana Lopez and that’s really all she’s wanted all along.


End file.
